


happy new year

by CallofTheCurlew



Series: challenge: prompts [5]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, New Years, Sorry Not Sorry, drunk, not smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 16:10:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14674671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallofTheCurlew/pseuds/CallofTheCurlew
Summary: It's the new year, and they're both drunk. That's literally it.





	happy new year

Dan’s drunk. It’s eleven at night and he’s already a goner, his eyes blurring over as the room swims. 

 Phil’s drunk too, probably. He’s not quite sure, but it feels nice, whatever stage of drunkenness he’s at. The room teeters and Dan stumbles into Phil and luckily they find a flat surface, collapsing onto a couch. Dan’s not sure, but he thinks that they actually just vacated that couch to stand.

Despite his suspicions, they take a moment to reunite with a stable world.

“We peaked too soon,” Dan decides remorsefully, and Phil nods sagely.

“Nobody should ever bring out tequila before eleven,” Phil continues, “Because now I can’t stand, and the New Year is going to pass and I’m not going to be able to be happy about it because I’ll be vomiting.” 

Dan giggles, and it’s high and silly and he leans against Phil for balance, “Don’t vomit. I hate kissing a vomit-mouth.” 

It sounds disgusting and Phil frowns so deeply his eyebrows hurt, “Okay,” he decides, “For you, I will not vomit.” 

“Thank you,” Dan reaches forward for a glass of something that was left abandoned on the table. It’s only them and Bryony and some boy, so he’s not worried as he downs it and hums, “Not sure what that was but I liked it.” 

Phil giggles, “Gross. You could’ve just had milk. And it’ll curdle in your stomach, and you’ll be shitting for days,.” 

“Wasn’t milk,” he assures, “Probably.”

“I’m tired.” Phil doesn’t miss a beat. Milk is no longer important,  “When did the New Year become so draining.” 

“Poor old-man Lester,” Dan grumbles, “Next you’ll be telling the kids to get off our lawn…”  

They go silent, swaying in their drunken stupors. It’ll pass soon, provided Dan stops drinking from random cups on the table, and they’ll sober enough to enjoy themselves again. 

“Our lawn,” Phil comments quietly after a few long moments - long enough for Dan to forget what they were talking about. Dan glances over at him, falling sideways into the arm of the chair and staying there, “Sounds nice.” 

“We can’t have a lawn,” Dan reminds him, even though he was the one that brought it up, “It’ll clash with the road.” 

Phil sniggers, “A road,  _ and _ a lawn, dummy.” he yawns, “Do you want to dance?” 

“I can’t get up.” 

“That’s okay. I don’t really like dancing anyway.

The conversation goes on like this for a long time, until Phil isn’t quite sure he’s talking anymore. His head is clearer, that’s for sure, but the edges of his vision still blur in a way that makes him think that maybe a contact has fallen out. He goes as far as poking himself in the eye to check, but they’re both still there.

“You okay?” Dan’s voice seems far away, and two tall glasses are suddenly pushed into their hands. 

Someone much taller than their seated selves grins down at them, and her teeth are bright and Phil wonders what kind of toothpaste she’s been using. 

“Vodka?” Dan asks hopefully as he takes a long sip. It’s water, unfortunately.

“Nope. People who are still standing at midnight get vodka,”

Phil pouts up at her, “Did we miss it?” 

“You’ve got ten minutes,” she promises, glancing at the wall clock, “Maybe come to the balcony? The fresh air will help.” 

Phil’s hand flutters at her dismissively. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s gotten drunk, but Bryony does have a point. Even the water seems to be helping. She’s a clever girl. 

“Mmkay,” Phil mumbles, and she helps him up. 

His world turns sideways and he laughs because  _ fuck _ , he hasn’t been this drunk in years. His glass of water resembles a turbulent ocean as he tries to steady himself, before gulping it down. He’s slightly queasy afterwards but he’s proud of himself for finishing the glass. 

“Dan?” he murmurs, but the other man is already taking grandma steps to the balcony, clinging to the door like he too is on a boat in stormy seas.

“I can’t believe these are the same two men who could drink me under the table and still get good scores on the DDR machine,” Bryony murmurs, unimpressed, “Now look at you.” 

“We’re out of practice and old,” Dan whines, finally stumbling into the cool air and breathing heavily.  

Phil joins him a few moments later, breathing in deeply through his nose. It’s clean and crisp and a little cold, but the alcohol that pounds through his veins like the bass at a dubstep concert fuels his warmth.

The cool air really does bring him back from the throes of drunkenness and suddenly he’s so aware of everything. Of the laughter and the talking around him that he had been deaf to before. Dan seems to be experiencing the same phenomenon, and they catch each others’ gazes with lazy smiles. 

As the clock ticks over to the New Year, they watch the fireworks from their balcony. It shoots beautiful missiles of pink and blue and green, exploding with such bangs that Phil winces. He’s always been sensitive to loud noises and fireworks are no exception. 

Dan grips his hand, turning to him with a wide, easy grin on his face. He’s unguarded, beautiful and his eyes are half-lidded in a way that makes him look so peaceful. Both of his hands come up and he holds the sides of Phil’s face clumsily, leaning in with no hesitation to kiss him deeply. They forget where they are for a second as their tongues come into play, but Bryony cheers in Dan’s ear and breaks the spell. 

Parting, their grins are wide. The kiss wasn’t  _ good _ \- the taste of alcohol and sickly sweet mixers made sure of that - but it was the New Year, and everyone needs to kiss at New Years. Dan isn’t sure how he managed life before having someone to kiss. 

“Happy New Year.” Dan whispers, and kissing his mouth again for good measure. 

“Happy New Year,” Phil echoes, his eyes open and staring. 

They’re too close for this to be a good view, but Phil presses his warm forehead against Dan’s clammy one. It’s a little gross and their breath is awful but Dan’s pressing soft kisses to his lips. Their arms have found their way around each other, pulling close and they bathe in the feeling of each other, warmth and light and happiness radiating from those around them. 

It’s a good feeling, and Dan’s cold heart feels warm. The come down will be horrific, as it always is after anything that gives him such joy, but he’s happy to forget about the aftermath for now. Sometimes he equated it to Phil’s lactose intolerance - it would hurt him after, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to have a great time eating the ice cream in the moment.

He can’t help his laugh as he thinks about it, and Phil has a quizzical look about him but doesn’t question. 

They stand there for eternity, or at least until Bryony and her new flavour of the month squeeze past to get to the alcohol, refilling their glasses. 

“Did you guys freeze solid?” Bryony pokes them, downing another of her drinks and cheering again. The fireworks continue outside and it casts an array of colours into the apartment, shining off their glass cases and ornaments, “You can have some more vodka now.”

Dan wrinkles his nose and pulls away from Phil enough that he can yawn without doing it in Phil’s  face, “Mm, no. I think it’s time for the olds to go to bed.” 

She looks like a kicked puppy, “Seriously?” 

Phil’s heart actually tugs for a second, but the pull of exhaustion is stronger, “Sorry Bry,” he says, changing from Dan’s embrace to wrapping his arms around her, tugging her close, “But we’re old. And we just spent a  _ lot  _ of time kissing.” 

She’s immediately disgusted, “Oh,” he grumbles, pushing Phil away. He giggles in response, reaching for her again, “I see what this is. You’re not tired. You’re just horny old men who can’t reign their dicks in.” 

Dan shrugs, because it’s a perfectly logical excuse to him. 

“Go,” she mutters dramatically, “We’ll be out here, celebrating the New Year with the rest of London,” she gestures out the window, but Dan and Phil have already retreated down the hall. 

They reach their room and Dan’s yawning again. They won’t do anything - not with Bryony so close. They’ve known her long enough that this is a regular occurance - them sneaking off to bed long before she’s ready to end the evening. She’s not a party animal generally, but she knows how to bring it when she needs to. Maybe they’re getting boring. Maybe they’ve  _ always _ been this boring. 

She and her boyfriend will sleep in the guest room, or catch an Uber home in the next few hours. She has a key, so Phil isn’t worried. 

Outside their flat, the sounds of partying continue as they both change into their soft sleep clothes, getting under unmade covers and pulling skewed blankets to their chins. 

They both lay on their backs, listening for a moment. The room is no longer spinning  and Phil feels happily buzzed. The hangover will hit tomorrow - he’s learnt as he’s gotten older that no amount of hydration will stop the impending headache. 

They joke about it a lot these days - getting older and more boring and Phil knows it’s not the whole truth. As they years pass they settle further and further into contentment. They’re confident about what they like, and they don’t have to pretend anymore to fit in with their cool highs chool cliques, or their cool uni fraternities, or their cool Youtuber friends. They’ve never been the cool guys, but it doesn’t matter anymore. They have each other and Phil thinks Dan is pretty cool. 

Phil lets out a gentle sigh and Dan rolls into his side, gazing at him with such a look of fondness. 

Phil loves him so much, scooting closer to press his lips to Dan’s forehead. He flings an arm around his middle and Dan presses his face into the pillow, shifting his long body to get comfortable. 

“Another year,” Dan mutters quietly, and there’s sadness there as well as relief. Relief because the party is over, and it’s New Years Day and they can relax until the onslaught of their busy lives catch up. 

They’ll have this day to recover, to enjoy each other and laze about because they can. Because it’s another year and they’re safe, and happy, and they have each other to help wrestle any new demons that dare to show their faces. 

They cuddle close despite the fact that they’ll be on opposite sides of the bed as soon as one of them drifts off. 

This closeness is nice, for now. 

“Happy New Year... “ 

“Mm. Happy New Year Dan.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr! [CallofTheCurlew](https://callofthecurlew.tumblr.com/)
> 
> (also yes, I did post a multi-fic chapter last night, got too scared and took it down. Maybe one day.... )


End file.
